"...Ziliang?" Pei Ye muttered in a daze, feeling another wave of dizziness.
There was no response. His sword was locked in place with a "click," seemingly embedded in his opponent's body. Yu Sicheng lowered his head and stared straight at him, pulling back slightly as his spear recoiled.
Pei Ye's pupils contracted, and with a twist of his wrist, the force of deflection exploded along the length of the sword. Amidst the crisp sound of breaking metal, Pei Ye withdrew half a broken sword.
In that instant, all his expressions were reined in again. He lifted his gaze and locked eyes with Yu Sicheng. Their cold eyes clashed: one was dark yellow, the other bright gold.
Yu Sicheng froze for another moment.
